


the Mp3 Experiment

by donutsandcoffee



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, gavin is scatter-brained, michael is articulately foul-mouthed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-22
Updated: 2013-04-22
Packaged: 2017-12-09 05:12:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/770363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donutsandcoffee/pseuds/donutsandcoffee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The guy’s cute. </p><p>Not, like, five-month-old-puppy cute, the kind that elicits a fond sigh and a long ‘aw’ from a group of expressive teenage girls; the guy’s more like Adult Cute, capital letters and all, the kind that's cute at a glance but gets you hot and confused at night after waking up from a dream that is most definitely not cute, like those One Direction boys or the 90s kids’ Chad Michael Murray, if you know what he means.</p><p>Not that a lot of people know what he means. People tend not to understand his thought process; Gavin has gotten used to that over the years.</p><p>(for <a href="http://diveintotheragehappy.tumblr.com/post/44535062520/so-i-kinda-sorta-want-a-fic-where-insert-pairing">this prompt</a>: Michael and Gavin meet up in one of <a href="http://improveverywhere.com/2010/10/12/the-mp3-experiment-seven/">the Mp3 Experiment</a> events.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	the Mp3 Experiment

 

The guy’s  _cute_. 

Not, like, five-month-old-puppy cute, the kind that elicits a fond sigh and a long ‘aw’ from a group of expressive teenage girls; the guy’s more like Adult Cute, capital letters and all, the kind that's cute at a glance but gets you hot and confused at night after waking up from a dream that is most definitely  _not_  cute, like those One Direction boys or the 90s kids’ Chad Michael Murray,  _if you know what he means_.

Not that a lot of people know what he means. People tend not to understand his thought process; Gavin has gotten used to that over the years. 

Anyways, cute guy. Adult Cute Guy. Adult Cute Guy who’s standing only a few meters away from him. Gavin sees a line of earphone wires stretched from the phone in his right hand and disappear into the thick curly bush that is his hair, and a flash of hope flares in Gavin’s chest—Adult Cute Guy might be a participant of the Mp3 Experiment too, and that means a higher chance that Gavin would actually get to talk to him. Higher chance as in, nine-hundred thousand to one against instead of a million to one against, but  _still_.

Gavin spends the next few minutes trying to stop himself from stealing glances at the probably-a-new-crush and  _failing_ , and suddenly he’s all too aware of how much of a creeper he looks like now, standing still at his place, green hoodie obscuring most of his face. Fortunately—or unfortunately—the guy hasn’t noticed Gavin’s presence. Adult Cute Guy has been too occupied, busy fiddling with his phone and earpiece, face growing more and more irritated as seconds passed, not that it makes him any less cute. Gavin didn’t think it was possible, but the guy actually manages to look  _cuter_. More  _endearing_ , even. 

Definitely a crush, then.

“Swiss fucking cheese!” The guy suddenly exclaims, and Gavin jumps in surprise, knocking down a stack of wool sweaters at the rack in the process.

“Bollocks,” Gavin also curses, scrambling to catch the falling garments. He quickly scoops the ones on the floor and starts folding them neatly one by one, a skill he has reluctantly acquired ever since he moved to this country for studies and lives alone in his apartment.

When he looks up, Adult Cute Guy is looking at him, and their eyes meet.

This is a dream. Gavin must have been, like, secretly allergic to wool or something, and he has passed out and started dreaming because Adult Cute Guy is walking towards him and there is absolutely  _no_  explanation for this other than the fact that  _he is dreaming._

Except that he isn’t.

Except that he isn’t, and Adult Cute Guy is standing in front of him and says, “Hi.”

Gavin doesn’t trust himself not to squeal like a teenage girl being asked to the prom if he tries to stay anything, so he resorts to staring.

“So, uh, this is going to sound really weird,” the guy continues, unaware of Gavin’s stunned silence, “but are you a participant of the Mp3 Experiment too?”

It takes five embarrassing seconds before Gavin can process the guy’s question. 

“Yes!” He says once his brain clicks, inwardly grimacing at the way he reacts a little too excitedly and tries his best to look calmer. “I mean—yes, yes I am.” 

The guy still looks nervous, though. “Okay, just, tell me if you’re uncomfortable and shit,” he says, “but do you mind sharing your earphone? Mine’s a bust after I dropped it by accident, and you’re the nearest one around with the kind of earpiece that can be shared, so.” 

Gavin looks around, and Adult Cute Guy isn’t lying. The couple of people around them are using large headphones, the ones that have ‘talk to me and I will cut you’ written all over it.

Well, their loss. 

“Sure, why not,” Gavin says, giving him his best grin and a thumb up just because.

Adult Cute Guy looks relieved. “Thank, man,” he says, and smiles back. After a few seconds of surprisingly not uncomfortable silence as Gavin passes him the right side of the earphone, he says, “the name’s Michael, by the way.”

“Like Chad Michael Murray?” Gavin asks, because his brain-to-mouth filter is non-existent.

The guy— _Michael_ , oh god, Gavin actually gets to know his name—chuckles at that. “The guy’s famous in Britain?”

“Not really,” Gavin mumbles, fighting the blush that starts creeping up his face. Damn his brain and random thought process. “I’m Gavin.”

Michael gives him a friendly tap on the shoulder, and Gavin figures that’s Michael-equivalent of a handshake. They still have a couple of minutes to burn, so they make some small talk as they mindlessly walk around the store, shoulders pressed to each other’s.  _It’s because of the shared earpiece_ , Gavin tries to remind himself.  _Not because of, well, anything else._

“I was actually kind of forced to do this,” Michael confesses after some time. “I lost a bet, and Lindsay thought I spent too much time in my room playing games, so.”

Gavin pauses. He feels an irrational lurch in his stomach and tries to will it away. “Lindsay, huh—”  _be smooth, Gavin Free, be smooth_ — ”—She’s your girlfriend?”

_Real smooth, Gavin. Real smooth._

Michael laughs like there’s a joke somewhere in that question. “Nah,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “not playing for that team.”

Gavin feels another lurch in his stomach, but for an entirely different reason. 

For the past few minutes they’ve talked, deep down, the rational part of Gavin’s brain (he  _does_  have that, okay, though admittedly his is significantly smaller than normal people’s) has been telling him that there’s no way this is going to work, that Michael may have had a wife or a girlfriend, may not even be interested in guys in  _that_  way. Now all Gavin’s excuses have been thrown out of the window, and he’s left with one staggering fact: that he has an actual, legit, honest-to-god  _chance_  with Michael.

_Don’t screw this up don’t screw this up don’t screw this up—_

“Me too,” he blurts.

Well fuck. 

Michael’s eyes widen fractionally in surprise and Gavin’s heart is hammering in his ribcage so loudly he’d be surprised if Michael  _couldn’t_ hear it. Sometime during the conversation they have both stopped walking, and now they are staring at each other awkwardly, Gavin’s face wearing a faux-nonchalant grin and Michael’s an unreadable expression. There’s silence, and Michael opens his mouth to say something—

“ ** _Welcome to the Mp3 Experiment Eight. My name is Mark, and I will be your omnipotent voice for today…”_**

They both freeze, Gavin with the ever-present grin, and Michael with his mouth gaping in mid-sentence, whatever that sentence is supposed to be.

 _“_ — _ **now walk out of the store and look around you…”**_

“Guess we should get going,” Michael says, and Gavin tries to resist the irrational urge to find the owners of ImprovEverywhere and beat them to pulp for their bloody beautiful timing.

Instead, Gavin nods and gestures to the store’s exit, and soon they are smashed between dozens of people with headsets, all moving outside of the store.

Gavin’s Rational Brain: 1. Gavin: 0.

(Gavin has long stopped questioning the fact that he considers his rational brain as an entirely different entity from himself.)

 

-

“Michael, Michael, look!”

Gavin holds up two leaves that vaguely resemble Pikachu ears above his head and Michael  _laughs_  like he’s never laughed before, teeth bared and his body doubling over. 

“You’re a fucking idiot,” he says, but he sounds fond, and Gavin just grins back. 

After being led outside the store to a public park across the street, they were informed their first task: to look around for any litters and dispose them.

The next twenty minutes after that, as they carry out this task, Gavin learns more about Michael than he ever thought he would in a lifetime. Michael’s from New Jersey, twenty-five and fresh out of college, plays computer and Xbox games like it’s his calling, and swears with the vocabulary of curse words usually reserved for very drunk and very verbose sailors. He takes his coffee black, prefers his movies with less words and more explosions, but he secretly writes at night, and that’s probably where his creative cussing comes from.

But beneath all those collections of stories and habits, Gavin thinks Michael has a big heart. He makes Gavin laugh in a way even his best friend Ray can’t, and Gavin finds himself spilling out his stories easily, how he’s scared of the future and that he would never have any friends other than Ray here.

Most importantly, though, Michael  _gets_  Gavin, doesn’t judge Gavin for his antics. He may have said, “Gavin, you fucking moron,” but his eyes are laughing and his expression betrays his words. 

Michael is ranting about the incredulity of finding an empty box of cat food in a park frequented by dog owners (“wow, yes, nothing screams ‘bring your cat here’ quite like a park filled with dogs, am I right? Fucking fantastic logic.”) when it suddenly hits Gavin that this is the happiest he has been in a long time. 

He knows this is stupid. He has only known Michael for, what, an hour? But there’s no denying the easy posture and easier smiles between them, as if they have known each other  _forever_. As if they were not supposed to live without each other. As if in another life they are the best of friends, wrestling each other and playing games together five days a week, familiar banter thrown at each other.

And maybe,  _maybe_ —they  _could_  be. Maybe that’s what the future has in store for them, if he plays his cards right.

**_“Thanks to your help, this park has become a more stunning place. Appreciate this by taking a picture of the most beautiful thing you can see.”_ **

Both Gavin and Michael take out their phone, and Michael starts looking around skeptically, but Gavin’s eyes are fixed on Michael. He can feel his palms start to sweat, the proverbial butterflies in his stomach staging a revolution, but he thinks of Michael’s jokes and Michael’s smiles and he knows he’s going to regret it for the rest of his life if he doesn’t make a move.

“Hey,” he says, almost quiet.

It’s loud enough for Michael. Michael turns to Gavin, a ghost of a smile on his face as he says, “wha—“ before the words die in his lips.

Gavin clicks a button on his phone and takes a picture of him.

Michael gapes, a million expressions cross his face at the same time. His mouth opens and closes a few times like a fish out of the water, and Gavin can’t help beaming as a blush slowly spreads on Michael’s cheeks.

“Gav, you idiot, that was really fucking sappy,” he finally spats, but his lips form a simper and Gavin counts this as a win. 

Gavin would, honestly, be content with just  _this_. The Mp3 Experiment would end and they would exchange numbers and a few days later Gavin would be on the phone, offering Michael two boxes of takeout and an invitation to play Dead Space 3 in his apartment. 

That, really, would be enough. Would be  _more_  than enough.

The disembodied voice that’s been coming through his earphone disagrees, though.

**_“Appreciating things is nice, but hundreds of people taking pictures can be suspicious. Why don’t we assure others that we mean no harm by giving them a kiss on the cheek?”_ **

Gavin’s breath catches.

Gavin isn’t stupid. He knows that the track is talking about  _other_ people, people who aren’t part of the Mp3 Experiment, and they actually specify the  _cheek_  part of the kiss—but he heard the word  _kiss_  and now he can’t take his eyes off Michael’s lips, wondering how it would taste, whether it would taste surprisingly sweet despite all the cursing or would it  _bite_  like a glass of old whiskey— 

Without thinking, he leans forward, and  _Jesus_  Michael actually  _meets him halfway_ , their hands fisting and pulling on each other’s clothes desperately and Gavin is so fucking glad he and Michael are on the same page here. 

The same fucking  _glorious_  page.

The kiss is clumsy, lips crushing to each other like they were made to crush to each other and  _holy shit_  that was one fucking  _awful_  analogy but Gavin couldn’t care less because Michael tastes nothing like sweets or whiskey; instead he tastes like  _Michael_ , childish grins and creative cusses melt into one, and the kiss is over to soon for Gavin’s liking.

They part, but they aren’t so far that Gavin can still feel the small puffs of Michael’s breath. There’s another instruction coming from the earphone and people are walking away from the park but neither of them could care less, and  _fuck_. 

Gavin has been swearing  _a lot_  lately. Michael has really been rubbing off on him.

“Well,” Michael says after a while, and his face is red but he’s beaming as Gavin rests his forehead on Michael’s. 

“I have Paper Mario at my place,” Gavin says the first thing on his mind, and Michael bursts out laughing.

“That’s  _real_  subtle,” Michael says in between chuckles, and he takes Gavin’s hand in his.

“If you know what I mean,” Gavin adds, a little late because his mouth and brain aren’t exactly on speaking terms right now, and Michael continues laughing until there’s tears in his eyes. Gavin chuckles and repeats, “if you know what I mean.” 

For once, someone does.

 

-

**Author's Note:**

> this story was previously posted on [my tumblr here](http://donutsncoffee.tumblr.com/post/45317985524/the-mp3-experiment). posted here due to requests and for archiving purposes
> 
> I have never taken part in the mp3 experiment and the only knowledge of it came from improveverywhere’s videos and reports. apologies for any inaccuracies
> 
> ‘michael is a writer’ is my personal headcanon, because come on he can’t be that articulate without being a writer
> 
> also yes this pairing broke me stupid video game boyfriends I was watching rage quit videos for fun _I didn’t ask for a new otp_


End file.
